


The Dream Soulmates

by beccabecky



Category: Divergent - All Media Types, Divergent Series - Veronica Roth
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Dream Soulmates, F/M, Gen, Soulmates, im not sure what im doing help
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-28 09:43:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16720965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beccabecky/pseuds/beccabecky
Summary: There have always been soulmates in the world. But Tris's question is: Does she have a soulmate? (*cough cough* she does *cough*)





	The Dream Soulmates

"Soulmates are things that the universe has gifted us that we never needed in the first place. They're completely unnecessary in the fact that we needed to have someone that we are destined to be with forever, for the rest of our lives," Tris's father explained once during the Prior family's nightly dinners. "It doesn't make all that much sense when we the people get to decide who we want and need in our life."

However, as much as Beatrice Prior agrees with her father's points of decently sound logic, Beatrice -or Tris as she likes to be called- admits to the opinion of soulmates being needed in the sense of a person's phycology. People need to have someone that they can depend on, and trust with their, well, life.

But unfortunately, soulmates are made known in many different ways. Some have physical marks of their soulmate, like injuries, birthmarks, or other such things imprinted on their person. Others have more mental or non-physical marks. Like 'the ability to hear your soulmate sing in your head' or 'the ability to taste what your soulmate is eating'. etc. And with these impossible to calculate soulmate "marks", you never really know what to expect. Hell, you can't even trust the time of each soulmate to be the same for each person. The idea of soulmates is so unpredictable. So... human in a way that only our race of man can understand. And that's why people without soulmates exist. They aren't as shunned as other people might have you think. People can just enjoy themselves with themselves and that's enough for them. And that's what Tris believes she is. Soulmate-less and a world filled with soulmates.

_'Ironic.'_ The gray-eyed eighteen-year-old thought as she got ready to go to bed. She walked up to her light-switch and clicked it off. Tris turned around, walked to her window and opened it. She breathed in the mildewy air and stared at the moon, get lost in her thoughts in the process. _'I wonder if I really do have a soulmate...'._ She shook her head softly, disappointed in her selfish way of thinking. ' _You shouldn't force yourself to want a soulmate if you don't genuinely want one, Prior.'_

A part of Tris's impulses begged to differ, about to full-on argue with herself over the ideals of what Tris does and does not want. The girl smothered that thought before it got another chance to speak its mind. Tris walked over to her bed and slid into the covers, enjoying the warmth and security it brought her. Gradually, she began to fall asleep, eyes dimming.

And there she dreamed of something that only her father wouldn't have enjoyed.

\--------

There she stood, in a field of dried grass. Everything was still, unmoving. But then, motion appeared in the corner of her eye, a thin black sliver of matter. Then came another, and another until there was an armada of inky dark space invading her vision. _'Crows.'_ she thought oh so helpfully. She punched, kicked, slapped, anything to get these god awful birds off of her. She continued her attempts over and over, counting each movement. But in the end, she gave up, exhausted by her efforts. Every pick and scratch was painful, each a mark of her stupidity and loss of determination. Tris closed her eyes, accepting her loss until she heard a slap. Then another. A pattern of a person's efforts to save that unlucky person trapped by the birds of death. She opened her eyes and saw a confused pair of deep blue eyes staring back.

They were the color of denim, the left eye having a spot of sky blue in the assault of a new shade of color.

"Where are we?" her savior asked.

Tris got up, wincing every time she moved. She dusted off the feathers and grass from her clothing.

She looked around, taking in the view of the sky and valley. _'It's too... perfect to be real.'_ she commented internally. She thought for a moment.

"We're in my... dreams, I think," Tris concluded. The grass moved, swaying with the new wind around them.

"How?"

"If I knew, wouldn't I already be telling you?" she turned to the boy and raised her eyebrow.

He glared down at her, deadpan expression on his face. "Just trying to make conversation, crow-girl."

"Okay, okay," She put her hands up in a mock surrender. "Also, do me a favor, don't call me crow-girl."

"Why not?" he asked almost innocently, but she could tell from the gleam in his eyes that he was kidding. "What am I suppose to call you, then? Dream Woman, Gray Eyes, Captain Obvious?" With every nickname, he leaned closer to her. They gazed into each other's eyes for a few seconds, but to the two of them, it felt like hours. Tris stiffened, feeling the heat on her face. She turned away and cleared her throat. The guy also realized what was happening and leaned away. The silence was awkward for a few minutes but then Tris spoke again.

"You can call me... Tris,"

The man looked over, smiling a bit. "And you can call me Four."

Tris gave an accusing expression. "What kind of a name is Four?"

He huffed a little. "Don't judge. My jersey for my elementary school soccer team was four."

"Okay then, weirdo, now, how do we get out?"

Four walked around a bit, inspecting the area with a sense of unsurety. He turned back to Tris, "I assume to get out of," he gestured vaguely, "Where ever here is, you have to wake up." He pointed to at her.

"Oh, well, then we have plenty of time left."

Four gave her a confused look. Tris glared right into his eyes, "What? I can't control how long I dream, Four."

He threw his hands up in a surrendering gesture. "Okay, okay." He dropped his hands, looked around again and then turned his head back to Tris. "Now, what do we do?"

The high-school grad shrugged, "I don't know," she sat down "I guess we just wait and see how long this is gonna take." She patted a spot on the grass next to her. Four sat down there.

And there they sat, silent, just staring at the sky. The grass felt uncomfortable, scratchy and dry under them, neither of them complained. Just stared. Four's eyes slid over to Tris. Her eyes were reflective, in this light they looked baby blue, pure and untainted. Light golden hair, tied up in a low pony-tail. She had this relaxed look on her face. He sighed and turned back to the clouds above. His eyes began to close. Then the grass rustled. He didn't open his eyes.

"Ughhhh." Tris groaned. Four opened one eye and saw the very irritated face of his fellow companion. She face planted into the ground. "Why is this dream so weird?" her muffled voice spoke.

Four shrugged, opening both eyes in the process. "Hell if I know, dream girl."

She looked up at Four with grass in her hair and dirt on her face. "I told you not to call me that, Four."

"I know~"

She groaned again and went back into the ground. Four bit back a smile. "Hey, Tris?"

She looked up again, annoyance all over her face. "What?"

"Wanna play twenty questions?"

Tris sighed. "It's not like I have a choice in the matter." She sat up.

"Question one: What's your favorite color?"

Tris thought for a moment. "Black," she answered with certainty.

Her fellow sufferer lifted an eyebrow. "Yeah, that isn't emo or gothic in the slightest." He said, smugness seeping into his voice.

Tris gave him a shove, "I'm not an emo! I just like the color black. Don't judge."

He watched as she crossed her toned arms in a defensive gesture and looked in his eyes, daring him to comment on her choice. She looks like she could destroy him. "O-okay, now it's your turn to ask me a question." Four cursed his stutter.

Immediately, that burning fire in her pupils died out, turning frigid and serious. _'She could ask us anything.'_ he reminded. _'What could she ask us? What our real name is? What our family is like? How old we are? She could ask us anything!'_ She spoke after a few seconds.

"What's your all-time favorite story?"

He blinked a bit, looking owly. "Why'd you ask me that?"

"Because, if you wanted to tell something personal, you would have already told me. You seem like the person who wants shit to be done with quickly, especially if you don't like it. And besides, I don't know anything about your history, so I'm not sure if I would offend you if I asked about your family, friends, or something else. And also, a person's favorite item or story can really tell about how they act and what their interests are." She listed. "So, Four, what's your favorite plot or story about anything?" she leaned in anticipatedly, excited to see if her theory worked.

"Oh, well, my favorite book is the Thief of Always."

Her excited expression gave away one of confusion. "What's that book about?"

"I mean, it'll take a while to explain but one of the reasons I like about it is it's moral. Granted people interpret it differently, but my moral is be grateful for what you have, big or small because we'll lose it in the end."

"That sounds... really dark."

"I-I know, but that's what I enjoy about it! It's sorta like if Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children was more of a horror story. But the horror doesn't come from its imagery, it comes from its realism on the topic of time. And how we lose it due to our own human faults of selfishness."

"Wow, that's deep."

Four gave Tris a smile. "Why do you think I like this story?"

For some reason, Tris's face looked more flushed after he said that, but they have been in the sun for a while.

"Now, Tris, if you had to be in a Hogwarts house, what would you be in?"

"Hmm, I've heard from a bunch of people that I'm either in Gryffindor, Slytherin, or Ravenclaw. So... I'm gonna pick Slytherin."

"Hmm," he looked at her intently- thoughtfully. "It suits you."

Tris giggled. Her eyes sparkled like pale opals. "Thank you."

The pair continued their banter, talking like old friends even though they had only known each other for a few hours.

But slowly, Tris began to feel a bit woozy. "Hey, Four?"

"Yeah, Tris?"

"I think this dream is coming to a close." She smiled up at Four sadly.

"O-oh."

"Yeah..." Tris looked to the side for a bit and then perked up.

"Four."

"Yeah?"

"Give me your arm."

Four gave her a confused look. "O-okay?" He showed his hand.

With a flick of her hand, a pen materialized in her grasp. She wrote down some numbers. "What's that?" Four said as he examined his arm.

"It's my phone number." She gave him a critical glare. "So, if you aren't a figment of my imagination, we can talk to each other."

"But, how'd you make that pen?"

"I'm lucid dreaming... I think. So, I should be able to make something in my dream, no?"

"Oh, cool."

Tris slowly began to feel even dizzier. She smiled at Tobias drunkenly. "Bye, Four~" she waved obnoxiously. Spots danced across her vision. "Tris?" she heard a fuzzy voice. Tris blacked out.

\--------

Four opened his eyes. He blinked three times with only one thought in his head. _'What the hell happened?'_

He sat up and looked at his arm. There sat the numbers Tris wrote in their shared dream. He rubbed his eyes and looked back to it. It was still there.

"Huh," Four said aloud. "Well, that's something."

\--------

Tris paced around her room, having woken up a few seconds ago. She continually glared at the pen in her hand. _'How on Earth did- HOW?'_ she thought over in her head. The pen itself was in her hand when she woke up and it was the same pen she used to write on Four's arm.

She immediately stopped pacing  _'Four is my soulmate.'_

\--------

_'I have to find her/him again.'_

**Author's Note:**

> DREAM SOULMATES DREAM SOULMATES DREAM SOULMATES- I've been working on this one-shot for the past month please help. Procrastination will be my death.


End file.
